


Cauterize

by iceepsy



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, Gen, ending spoilers from the beginning, examination of how Corrin's character changes from the beginning of Birthright to the end, semi fixit au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2018-11-22 05:43:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11373756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iceepsy/pseuds/iceepsy
Summary: Birthright AU: What if Birthright was a tragedy depicting Corrin’s mental downfall?





	Cauterize

In the end Kamui doesn’t know when time started to slow. Did it start when she plunged the Yato one final time into Garon’s flesh, feeling the resistance of the blade? From Garon’s last moan and glazed eyes, a telling sign that the war is finally over? If not, then it must have began when Azura collapsed behind her moments after, the short-lived victory quickly replaced with a chill that ran from the base of her neck to the tips of her exposed toes.

In the months, _years_ , that Kamui has known Azura, she has never seen the dancer look so fragile and helpless. She drops the Yato at the sight of her companion’s leg, bloodied and twisted at an unnaturally painful angle, and the sword lands with a resounding clang that echoes much too loudly in the demolished throne room. Kamui follows suit, collapsing next to her sword and cradling Azura’s head as the other’s breath catches.

“Sorry, but it looks like I wasn’t able to keep my promise,” Azura whispers as she weakly places her hand over Kamui’s, rubbing circles with her thumb as she had often done before. The once comforting motion that helped Kamui through sweat-drenched nightmares now makes her dread its inevitable end. All Kamui wants to do is scream—“You liar! You promised to see this world peaceful once more! You promised a future with me!”—but something holds her voice back and knocks the breath from her lungs. The most she is able to let out are broken sentences and uncontrollable sobs that her best friend tries to placate. “Kamui, I’m happy, truly. Don’t forget...this is the peace you and I have dreamed of. Live your fullest.” Really, Kamui thinks bitterly, who is the one dying?

“Please,” Azura asks, as her golden eyes dim, “can I see you smile one last time?”

And Kamui tries, returning a lopsided smile that has never felt so forced. Having finally found her voice, she begs Azura, “I can’t lose you as well; I can’t lose anyone else.”

It was not supposed to turn out this way; she was not supposed to have lost so much. After all, hadn’t she chosen the right path like the heros from her childhood storybooks? They slayed evil monarchs, fought for the poor, and have never lost or mourned. So then why, if she thought she had followed them, did she lose her dear siblings and friends? She looks to Azura for an answer to her silent questions. However, her best friend has already closed her eyes, deaf to her thoughts, showing a faint smile despite her other marred features.

Kamui looks around again at the desolate room. The regal tapestries that depicted scenes of Nohrian court life have been stained with ash, forever tarnished. The decorative columns were shattered from careless fighting, causing pieces of the expansive ceiling to give way. Any treasures that the throne room once proudly displayed have been raided by less honorous royal guards. To think Kamui once saw this palace as inviting, as home. Xander’s and Elise's deaths still haunt her. She can still see Elise, once the light of her life, now lifeless. If Kamui didn’t know better, save for the blossoming red spreading on her sister’s chest, she would have thought Elise was sleeping peacefully, wearing the pale makeup common for court royals. Kamui is still in disbelief Xander died. She had always imagined his death to be in a grand battle that people would remember for centuries and not a battle with his weak sister. Xander still sits in the hall as if he is resting: a pitiful death.

Kamui shakily stands up, laughing at the ridiculous turn of events. She picks up the Yato, thrown carelessly near Azura, still dripping with Garon’s blood. She half wishes her adopted father’s blood was another color: black, green, or even blue, so that does not feel like she just killed another human. If Garon were a monster, her approach would have been justified. Nevertheless, Garon’s blood will soon be caked into the divine blade like the others: like Iago, Hans, and all the other countless Nohrians she’s killed.

* * *

 

She can still hear Garon’s maniacal laughter as if this entire war had been his original plan. When she confronted him, Garon stared out at the crumbling walls that gave way to the town hovering overhead. “Foolish child,” he spoke in greeting, “is this the peace you have sought? Look long and hard at the destruction you have caused in your wake. Look back at Nohr and see the outcome of the path you have chosen.”

“Of course!” Kamui retaliated, “The only means of peace is by killing you! You caused this war! You planted that sword! You killed my mother!” She wanted to strangle him slowly, gouge out his eyes, and break a finger for each of the wrongdoings he caused to her and to Hoshido. Though, Kamui thinks bitterly that Garon would not have enough fingers.

She was ready to attack but Garon’s next words kept her rooted in place. The king of Nohr turned to her and whispered with poison dripping from his tongue, “Now come, child, you must think of the future for both countries. Nohr needs to be restored to its former glory. It’s only you who can fulfill that role, you know.” Kamui’s ears felt stuffed with cotton balls. Garon continued, “Xander secretly always wanted you to ascend the throne. Camilla does not have the strength to rule. When you left, she only wallowed in her room: a despondent bitch.”

The thought Garon proposed was ludicrous; Kamui had, of course, objected. Despite her verbal refusal, her mind continued to think. Xander had always treated her differently—his little princess. He had let her win. He had protected her. He had said that she could lead this world to peace.

“By default, the next in line is you. Dear Corrin, you should know you are still my precious daughter.”

His words were like a spell weaving and twisting across her body, petrifying her. She as Nohr’s ruler? He must be wrong because he’s the enemy. Even as Garon charged at Kamui, Bolverk above his head, she stayed rooted in spot. Only after the sudden movement of a spear cutting between her and Garon, distracting him, did Kamui dodge. She was quite surprised at his strength considering she had only ever seen him sitting on the throne; there was now a deep impression where he had struck.

Kamui gave Azura a grateful look as the dancer found her way next to her. The two flowed like water, swirling around Garon, dodging his attacks by a hair’s breadth. Azura sang her song, empowering Kamui to attack faster, cut deeper, and guard stronger. They were winning, Kamui thought happily. That is, until Garon surprised them both by parrying Kamui’s thrust with his axe while using his other hand to knock Azura to the side with a sickening crunch.

“Azura!” Kamui cried. To her relief, she heard Azura reply with a winded, “I’m okay.”

Relieved, Kamui took advantage of Garon’s next wide swing by ducking underneath the blade and slashing his knees in retaliation. He fell to the ground. Despite the wound, he only looked agitated. “I should have killed you when I had the chance.”

This was maddening. Kamui screamed back, “You’re speaking in circles! Which is it? Why didn’t you?”

Garon stood shakily; Kamui half expecting him to pass out. To her surprise, he charged again, cutting into her shoulder before she could move. Kamui yelped and quickly stepped out of the way before he could cut through the limb. It was by sheer luck that he didn’t hit any vital tendons or ligaments; Sakura could heal it later. Kamui tested the Yato in her other grip, making due with her non-dominant hand as blood dripped from her useless arm.

With him so close, she lunged with all her strength, pierced the gaps of his armor, and sent the sword through his stomach. Her opponent let out a bloodcurdling scream, coughing blood onto her as he once again fell to his knees, “Because you - you could get to Mikoto.” Bolverk slipped from his grasp, barely cutting her toes. “Because this was a test. A test to see if you had what it takes to rule the dark, grand country of Nohr. And my child,” his gaze bore into her eyes, “you passed.” Kamui twisted the Yato in further; her hands were slick with splattered red. Garon continued to cough, rasp, grate as she stepped back.

The former king of Nohr was smiling in death with what seemed to be the delirious murmurings of a dying man, “Ah, Arete, to be with you again...Perhaps all I wanted was the sweet release of death.” It made Kamui wonder if his earlier comments were also just incoherent thoughts however the more she contemplated the more truthfulness she felt in Garon’s statements.

Sakura’s worried voice piped up, shaking Kamui from her rumination, “K-kamui, are-are you ok?!” She grasped her injured shoulder and moved away from corpse.

She looked up and saw her little sister in tears. Kamui tried so hard to smile because this was Sakura, her precious sister who should have never needed to see the war. She replied back, “Yeah, I’m _—_ I am. It’s only a small injury.”

In addition to Sakura, Ryoma was standing protectively a few feet away but never chose to interfere. He understood it was her fight alone with Garon and it was only honorable to let her finish. Takumi was behind a pillar, a few feet away from Ryoma. He peeked towards her when he heard Garon collapse. His Fujin Yumi was set despite the cold shoulder he had always directed at her. Hinoka was standing next to poor Sakura, mirroring Ryoma. Kamui spoke louder, addressing them and their retainers, “It’s over. Hoshido has won the war.”

Sakura’s rod brushed Kamui, mending her injured shoulder with a cooling breeze. “Thanks, Sakura,” Kamui said before addressing the others, “It’s been a long battle, everyone go on ahead to rest and celebrate.”

“Wh-what about Azura?” Sakura asks.

“I should be well enough to help Azura.”

Sakura looked ready to protest until Hinoka chastised her, “It’s alright; remember that Kamui is a budding healer. She can help Azura and take her to you if anything else is more severe.” Hinoka waved as she started to leave, dragging the younger girl with her; Ryoma and Takumi followed suit. Kamui gave them a comforting smile. Things were alright, right?

Kamui saw the blue-haired girl out of the corner of her eye, carefully maneuvering past the rubble. She turned to greet her, to thank her for the help. That is, until she saw Azura collapse forward onto the ground.

* * *

 

Kamui looks back to Sakura’s crying; she had once thought of it to be of relief. Sakura was staring at her bloodied clothes that no amount of washing could remove. The white of her uniform is stained with the blood of her’s, Azura’s, Garon’s and countless others. It’s proof of her victories. It’s proof of Nohr’s defeat. It’s proof that she didn’t bring peace, that she was the warbringer. And Kamui doesn’t know how to stop. Sakura wasn’t relieved; she was frightened at what her sister had become.

Kamui carries Azura to the entrance of the throne room where the others are waiting. How much of a failure could she be? She was unable to live up to Mikoto’s name; she could still see her dead mother shaking her head sadly yet again. Of course _Mikoto_ would have found a way to peacefully unite the two countries. Her siblings had been so proud of her only a few moments ago; she doesn’t want to see the look of disgust when they realize she killed their adopted sister. Kamui could see it now: Ryoma’s distant eyes telling her that she’s a scam; she isn’t MIkoto’s daughter.

The others all cry when they see Azura hang lifelessly from Kamui’s arms. Ryoma is struggling to maintain composure while Hinoka and Sakura sob visibly. Even Takumi turns his head away. They say condolences to her, to each other, but Kamui is not paying attention anymore. She stumbles out of Castle Krakenburg in a half-dazed, dream-like state.

Kamui boards Hinoka’s pegasus and sees the city as Garon had described, void of residents. She sees the roaring fire, the falling roofs, and the breaking walls. She smells the sulfur, chlorine, and soot that permeates the air. Kamui thinks back to Garon’s words. No, Azura, we didn’t achieve peace. She doesn’t know how Nohr can ever recover as Hoshido continues to prosper. The Nohrians can only cower in fear as brigands raid while the new monarch attempts to bring about a semblance of stability. She didn’t fix anything; it’s nothing like what Mikoto would have wanted.

Kamui still can’t get rid of the thought even by the time they arrive back in Hoshido. Garon’s right; it’s her birthright to rule, like her mother, father, and step-father. She can’t take over Hoshido - she doesn’t want to as Ryoma is destined for the title. Ruling Nohr, on the other hand, could be her chance to let her siblings see she can truly bring peace, that she is worthy of being Mikoto’s daughter.

She knocks on the crown prince’s room late one night, sliding the screen door after she hears his muffled greeting. Kamui asks Ryoma about the surrendered country.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to whysterias for betaing! This stemmed from a conversation about how we felt Birthright's plot ind of trails off by the end and wondered how we could address it.


End file.
